The Argument
by Knowing Grace
Summary: Ben and Adam argue over Adam's education. Written for May's "Fan Fic Fun" on Bonanza Boomers.


**Hello, everyone! Here's another one shot I wrote a couple of months ago. Hope ya'll enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, though I wish I did.**

* * *

 _ **The Argument**_

 _ **by Knowing Grace**_

Anger welled up within me; it was an anger that I had felt but rarely. Generally speaking, I was cool-headed and relied heavily upon logic, though there was a bit of the poet within me as well. I was not as laid back as Hoss—my middle, nature-loving brother. Neither had I the fiery personality that seemed to eat away at Little Joe; oh, he had a will of iron, that one, though he was yet only five. Many times before, I had overheard various town's folk talking about me; they called me sullen and far too serious for a boy of nearly eighteen years.

 _If only they could see me now._ My ire was a writhing, living thing, and I stomped my way across the yard towards the stable where my horse waited for me. I would ride away, to where, I was not certain. I knew only that I could not stay here one second more.

It had gone too far this time. I cast a glare over my shoulder at the house behind me where my father remained and recalled our argument.

 _"All I want is for you to wait one more year before leaving for college, is that too much to ask?"_

My reply had been less than respectful. Pa's dark eyes had flashed a warning at me which had gone unheeded. Back and forth we had gone, trading shouts like verbal punches, each of us seeking to injure the other in order to win. In the end, I lost it.

 _"Why did you ever move out here?"_ I had screamed, _"I hate it and I hate you!"_

I stormed out after that, unable to bear seeing the stricken expression on my father's face. It had been a low blow, and the barb had struck true...and deep. The tiny corner of my brain that still held rational thought was now eaten up with guilt. I had had no call to speak to him that way. It wasn't true; I loved it out here where the wind whispered secrets through the branches of the pines and the fish played tag in the lonely, mountain streams. It was a good place, a lovely place. And though he was a strict man at times, I did love my father very much.

But anger still held me in its clutches, and I was not about to go back and apologize. After all, he had said just as many hurtful things as had I. Why should I ask his pardon when I was also an injured party?

I had just reached the barn and was about to enter when a hand on my arm stopped me, and I turned to see who was there.

It was our cook. The Chinaman had a serious expression on his face. "Number One Son stay here and make things right with father." he said.

I brushed him off. "Later, Hop Sing." I opened the door, but he grabbed a handful of my jacket and jerked hard upon it, causing me to stumble back a step.

"No, you make things right! Father not mean angry words, he scared."

I blinked.

 _Pa scared?_ It was a preposterous notion. He had faced down river pirates, storms out on the lonesome prairies, rattlesnakes, and roving bands of Indians intent on taking his scalp; never before had he shown anything but bravery in the face of danger.

Hop Sing nodded his head vigorously. "Father very scared. He scared he lose Number One Son. He scared you not want to come home after learning in Boston. He scared he lose you like he lose wives."

That last part stung. It had not yet been three months since Marie's death. We hadn't always gotten along, she and I; I had no memories of the woman who had born me, but I had been old enough when Inger—the only mother I had ever known—had died, and I had not wanted anyone to replace her. Besides, at eleven, I had felt myself to be entirely too old to be needing a mother's care. So, when Pa had returned from New Orleans with Marie on his arm, I had instantly resented her. However, over the years, she had wormed her way into my heart. She had been gifted with the wonderful ability to help curb Pa's temper, and had gotten me out of trouble more times than I cared to remember. Now she was gone, and there was no one to stand between me and Pa...except for, apparently, one, lone Chinaman.

That Pa might fear me never returning after my stint in college wasn't something I had ever considered. Oh, I had no desire to stay out East—I was after all my father's son. I longed to see more of the wild, Western lands and sink my roots deep into the rich, black earth. But first, I wanted an education. I had a studious mind and a love of books and learning that would not be sated no matter how much I stuffed into my "Yankee granite head". Mr. Holbrooke, the schoolmaster, had taught me all he knew and there were no colleges out here, though there was rumor of one being built in San Francisco. But who knew if that was anything other than speculation?

Suddenly, as quickly as the anger had come it abated, leaving me with a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. I had had no right to say such things even though I had been provoked into saying them.

I scuffed the toe of my boot against the dusty ground.

"All right, I'll stay."

A grin lit up Hop Sing's face and he nodded several times. "Very good. Now, go! Make things right with father and I bake apple pie for dessert with supper tomorrow." With that, he turned on his heel and scuttled off towards the side door that led to the kitchen.

Well, I really did need to apologize to Pa. I glanced at the house. It wasn't easy for me to admit when I was wrong, but if I was going to get apple pie out of it...

With a sigh, I closed the barn door and headed back towards the ranch house.

~ Finis


End file.
